But this soup was one of the first dishes she’d ever tried from the Coleridge family, and these flavors had been branded into her subconscious as the best example of warmth and caring. Probably the most warmth and caring she’d had from anyone in her entire life.

  Her eyes were watering when Mark came back downstairs. She swallowed the big knot in her throat and hurried to wash her dish.

  “You tried it?”

  “I sure did,” she said.

  “And? What’re you gonna tell my mama? That I screwed up the family recipe?”

  She laughed. “Don’t be ridiculous. You only sorta screwed up the family recipe.”

  When he feigned offense, she swatted at his chest. “I’m a liar. It was amazing. Took me right back to seventh grade. And, well, every year after that.”

  Mark’s boyish grin sent her heart racing. But with the excitement came warning bells too. She tamped down the feelings and headed to the dining room table. Maybe if she put some distance between them, she might have a better shot at keeping her cool.

  “That’s what Mama Coleridge is for,” Mark quipped, following her to the table. She slid into a chair, but he eyed her curiously. “How was your day?”

  “Good.”

  “You look stressed.”

  She laughed in spite of his astute observation. If only she could share why she was stressed and that it had everything to do with six feet of handsomeness and the way his thick arms called to her like nothing else in her life. “I guess I am. I’ve never had to handle a sick day for Angus before, you know?”

  “I’d say it went pretty well.”

  “Yeah, it did.” She paused, daring herself to meet his gaze again. “Thank you. Honestly.”

  “It was no problem, and I’d do it again in a heartbeat. Let me help you with this resting stress face.”

  Her brows knit together. “Resting stress face?”

  He came behind her, his big palms smoothing over her shoulders. “Yes. Like resting bitch face, but for stress.”

  They both dissolved into laughter, but it faded quickly once his big hands started massaging her shoulders. She collapsed back against the chair as his strong but therapeutic rhythm took over.

  “Oh my godddd,” she moaned.

  His deep chuckle sent moisture surging between her legs. She’d come over here to get space, but now she was closer to him than ever. And she didn’t want to change a thing.

  “You learn how to massage like this in the NFL?”

  “Hell no,” he said. “I’ve just got a skill, I guess.”

  “Is this your back-up plan?” she croaked. “Because it should be.”

  He let out a low hum, his kneading moving to the sides of her arms. Every inch of her body tingled under his touch. God, she wanted so much more than this. She wanted every last inch of him, on top of her, inside of her.

  “Let’s go into the living room,” he suggested. “It’ll be better if you sit on the floor and I sit on the couch.”

  She couldn’t even open her eyes. “Okay but I can’t move.”

  He moved the chair with her on it, and then a moment later she was in his arms. Her eyes shot open, and she threw her arms around his neck, giggling.

  “Whoa there,” she cried out.

  That heartbreaker grin was back as he walked them into the living room. “You don’t even have to move.”

  She shrieked as he lowered her to the floor, more for fun than anything else. She never doubted that he’d drop her—not back in high school, and least of all now, with these biceps that could double as tree trunks.

  “All right,” he said, nudging her into place between his legs after he sat on the couch. “Get ready.”

  “I’m soooo ready,” she said, leaning back into his touch as he resumed the massage. Another moan escaped her lips as he found a new knot. “Fuck me, that feels good.”

  Mark stilled for a moment, the tension between them skyrocketing. “Damn, babe. You trying to kill me?”

  She blinked groggily, not connecting the dots. “Mmmm?”

  His hands moved from her shoulders to her neck, and another low moan escaped her.

  “Yeah, you’re definitely trying to kill me,” he said with a laugh. Finally, his meaning sank in past the blissed-out haze of this unexpected massage.

  “I’m sorry. It just feels so good,” she said, her voice wispy.

  “And that’s why you sound like you’re in a soft-core porno?” he cracked.

  Giggles rolled out of her, and she covered her face with her hands. “Mark, I can’t help it.”

  “You’re gonna have to, or this massage will need a happy ending.”

  He was joking, but there was an unmistakable edge to his words that seared through her. She felt powerful suddenly. But also hesitant. She wanted to go there so badly. But should she?

  “I assumed you were getting happy endings plenty, now that you’re a big-time football player,” she said, trying to keep her tone light.

  He didn’t say anything at first, but his hands had moved to her collarbone. He tugged her back further between his legs, and that’s when she realized the massage had stopped.

  “Look at me, Tessa.”

  She tipped her head back into his lap, forcing her eyes open. She met his upside-down brown gaze and heat washed through her.

  “You want to have this talk?” There was that edge again. The husk that promised so much more.

  She gulped. “I don’t know. Do I?”

  He cracked a smile. “Only you can answer that, babe.”

  She sighed, her eyes fluttering shut as she rested her head on his massive thigh. “Okay. Then yes. I do. Are you single?”

  “Yep. Are you?”

  She paused and then nodded. “Since I left you.”

  Mark was quiet for a long time. So long that she added, “Don’t worry, I don’t expect the same to be true for you.”

  His hands slid a little further down the front of her chest, his fingertips barely brushing the edge of her bra. It felt so good to be covered by him. Gripped by him. Shivers coursed through her entire body, and if she thought too hard about it, she feared fainting.

  Maybe she’d been stupid to focus so intently on her studies and Angus. Maybe she should have built in some time for release, beyond the occasional night with her hand.

  “You kissed me at the school today. Now you’re moaning like I’ve got you backed up against a wall tearing your clothes off.” His voice was hot at her ear when he leaned in to whisper, “I think you need that happy ending.”

  She whimpered and then clamped a hand over her mouth. At least now she knew the chemistry between them was as solid as ever. But what should she do with this information?

  “Mark, we can’t,” she blurted. “I…I mean…yeah, that sounds nice and all, but—”

  “But you’re worried I’ll get you pregnant again?” he said, that light tone returning.

  She snorted. “No. I just…I want Angus to be the focus. I don’t want to distract you from getting to know him.”

  “You could never.” His brown gaze darted back and forth across her face. She could live here forever, lying in his lap, looking up at him, engulfed by his warmth. “Whether or not we find our happy ending together, I will always be there for Angus. I swear on my granddaddy’s life.”

  She laughed, but she knew he was serious.

  “Now can I kiss you for real? Just say yes to put me out of my misery.”

  Her grin stretched ear to ear. “Yes.”

  “Get up here.” He nudged her to sitting, pulling her up and onto his lap. Except the way she landed was in a full straddle position, their groins colliding. Mark’s hands rested on her hips, his eyes going hooded.

  “Just one kiss,” she whispered, already falling victim to the pulsating desire between them. She fit like a glove in his grip. His big arms encircled her, making their bodies flush. When the tips of their noses brushed, Mark let out a grunt.

  “You are trying to kill me,” he murmured.

  “No. Just trying to be smart.”

  “Smart,” he repeated, and then he pressed his lips to hers. A deep, hungry kiss emerged, one that felt so new but also so familiar to her. They’d kissed a million times in their lives, as the ravenous teens they’d been, but this—this was something new. The same passion was there but built up, restrained, forced into hiding. One kiss and Tessa realized that the next step wasn’t a second kiss. The next step was an erupting volcano.

  Mark’s tongue pressed past her lips, and she moaned as their tongues started a slow dance. She moved against him without meaning to, and his grip at her hips tightened. She broke the kiss hurriedly, chest heaving from the effort.

  “Mark,” she began.

  He groaned, throwing his head back. “That was only a half kiss.”

  She laughed in spite of the situation. But her head was spinning. No matter how much she wanted to fall into Mark—into this—she wanted to do things right.

  “Let’s move slow,” she whispered, using all the strength in her body to climb off of him. The realities of a new NFL career combined with her new job and the son they had between them…it demanded a rationale. A plan. Picking Angus up from school on a sick day was one thing; showing up for him on a daily basis was entirely different.

  Because it wasn’t just to protect Angus.

  It was to protect herself, too.

  8

  A week slunk by in endless training, punctuated by another preseason game that saw Mark celebrating new records for his rookie year and plenty of happy pictures and videos from Angus once he was feeling better. Mark was feeling high on life, but maybe that had to do with the fact that he was still high on Tessa’s lips from last week. He couldn’t get that passionate kiss out of his mind.

  Sure, Tessa said she wanted to take things slow, but he had a plan. And it started with a Monday night date.

  They’d been texting daily since last week, sometimes from morning to night. He didn’t mind it; in fact, he relished it, even when he had to squeeze the messages in during practice. Finally, it felt like he was getting his best friend back. But with a bonus now: his very own son.

  Mark had been planning to surprise her with a night out, but as their texts revealed her growing frustrations with what was apparently a very awful Monday, he realized that this night out couldn’t be better timed.

  I hope you don’t have anything going on tonight, he texted after the offensive-strategy meeting the team had held. Because I have plans for you.

  You’re lucky my dad dropped by unannounced with a whole new sack of toys, she typed back. Because this is a perfect night to slink away.

  I’m ready to slink and a whole lot more.

  We said slow, remember?

  Mark grinned. You ever seen how slow a Slinky goes down a staircase? That’ll be me.

  He knew he was being bold as hell, but he couldn’t stop himself. She had him drunk and wild on that half kiss from last week, and it was all he could do to stop from begging for naughty pics.

  Especially since the only time he’d seen her since Angus’s sick day was at the school, when he’d stopped by on Friday for lunch with Angus. It had been quick, because he’d squeezed it in during his workday. All he’d gotten from Tessa was a sexy grin and a wink across the hall.

  You are too much. But after the day I’ve had, I can’t say no. Can’t wait.

  Mark was antsy to finish up practice for the day, which seemed to drag slower the closer he got to quitting time. He was out the door, showered and ready for his evening, by five. He headed to the store to grab a few last-minute supplies for the date. Everything else he needed was already loaded in his car, since this idea had been percolating in the back of his mind for a few days.

  He called Tessa after he’d hit the store. “Hey there.” A grin he couldn’t control spread across his face. This sort of thing was happening a lot more lately. It felt like he hadn’t smiled in years until this past two weeks. “I’m officially ready to get our date started. But here’s the thing: I have to go there before you to get it ready.”

  “Okay,” she said, “but is this a date? I thought we were just…doing something fun.”

  “Oh, it’s a date. I’m gonna send you the address and hope for the best…sound good?”

  She snickered. “How can I say no to that?”

  They chatted for a little longer before she hung up to get ready. Mark sent her the address then got on his way.

  The destination was a little campground on the outskirts of town. His idea was simple, really: the two of them, a starry sky, and an old record player like they used to listen to back at his place growing up. He also brought a bottle of wine—a different kind this time, to shake things up—plastic wine glasses, and a little charcuterie board, since he’d grabbed dinner at the facility and Tessa had said she’d eat with Angus before she left.

  He got to the campground, about forty minutes outside of downtown, while the sun blazed low on the horizon. The campground wasn’t terribly full, and he’d chosen this one for its woods-lined lake. He drove around for a while before selecting the perfect spot: an empty wooden pier that went out over the water. Just as he started to set up, Tessa texted him that she was on her way.

  She pulled into the parking lot as Mark stood back to admire his work; the deck chairs, blanket, battery-operated record player, and a cooler full of goodies. And just in time: the sun was ready to touch the horizon. Mark jogged to the shore to flag her down, and when he saw her college T-shirt and tattered jean shorts, his breath evaporated.

  There was something so simple but effortlessly gorgeous in the way she looked. A messy bun on top of her head, her feet pushed into sandals. He’d told her to come casual, but even this level of casual had his heart racing.

  “There you are.” He grabbed her hand, smiling down at her. It wasn’t long before he had her tugged into his arms. Tessa propped her chin against his chest, smiling up at him.

  “Hey.”

  “You ready for your surprise?”

  “I think so.”

  “Don’t think so,” he chided playfully. “Know so.”

  She giggled, squeezing her arms tighter around his waist. “Fine. I know so.”

  “Very good.” He watched her for a moment, then pressed a kiss to her forehead. Before she could protest, he said, “It was a friendly kiss, so it’s fair game.”

  He took her hand in his and led her back down the pier. She sighed softly when she got to the deck chairs, looking at him with tenderness in her gaze.

  “This is really sweet,” she said softly.

  “Just wanted to watch the sunset, no big deal.” He eased into one chair, gesturing toward the other one. “Sit down, babe. There’s more surprises coming.”

  Once she’d nestled into her spot, he turned toward the record player, poising the needle over the album he’d planned for the evening. They would always while away evenings in his parents’ backyard with Tessa’s dad’s old record player and whatever albums they could scrounge up, sometimes even buying new ones extra cheap at the thrift store. When the song crackled to life, Tessa immediately gasped.

  “Silly Love Songs.”

  “Yep.” He leaned back in his chair as their favorite oldie crackled through the record player. This was their favorite song as kids and during the time they’d been a couple. They’d listen to it weekly some months. “Just as good as ever.”

  She looked over at him, her eyes watery, before grabbing for his hand. “Mark, I’m sorry.”

  “For what?” He squeezed her hand. “Don’t cry.”

  “I’m not.”

  “You’re about to.”

  She laughed, swiping away a spilled tear. “Okay, fine, you’re not wrong. I’m just…I know there are a million other ways I could have handled the situation after high school graduation. I regret the path I chose.”

  He was silent for a few minutes while Paul McCartney sang.

  “You really hurt me, Tessa,” he finally admitted softly. “Bad.”

  The pain he’d kept bottled came flooding back for an instant. But he was used to kicking the feelings into submission and shoving them into a far corner of his brain. It was how he coped. The difference was now he knew the reason why she’d broken his heart. Her confession had dulled the sharp edges of his memories, but sometimes they still caught him off guard.

  She clutched his hand tighter. “I know I did. In so many ways. I can’t undo the damage, all I can do now is try to be better, for you and Angus. I’m so sorry.”

  Mark closed his eyes and brought her hand to his lips. Tessa drew a deep breath and sniffled.

  “This was supposed to be a fun night, not a therapy appointment. Come here, babe.” He pulled her gently. “Get in my lap.”

  She didn’t even protest. She pushed up out of her deck chair and folded into his lap gratefully, resting her head against his chest. “God, you’re comfy.”

  “I think you meant to say I’m made from pure steel?” he teased.

  “Oh, yeah. These days, definitely pure steel,” she said with a laugh. “But comfy steel.”

  A few moments of pleasant silence drifted by, broken only by the wavering song on the record player. Because it felt like it always did with Tessa. Easy. Natural. Just like home. He stroked her back as they listened, and when the song ended, Tessa shifted against him.

  “Man. These old records were the only thing I had to connect to my dad while growing up,” she said, gaze on the horizon where only a sliver of the bloated sun remained. “That’s all we could connect over. Music.” After a pause, she said, “I’m glad it’s not like that with you and Angus.”

  “How’s it going with your dad now?”

  “Frustrating, I guess. But he’s trying. Trying too hard. All I ever wanted was for him to be there, and now that he is, it’s just…good but not quite right. His version of connecting is filling my house with junk toys and siding with Angus like a schoolboy. I’m sure he’s watching Angus chug soda right now, even though I’ve begged him not to give him soda after six.”